Piper
Julio Varga sat there with a confused expression on his face. He had no idea who I was or why I was there. Would he remember Jake? Would he admit to killing him, or try to play it off as if he didn’t have anything to do with it?
Only one way to find out.
“Hello, Julio.” My hands were shaking, knees knocking, but my voice was strong and confident. Good.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Does it really matter?”
Varga shrugged. “You a gift or something?”
I threw my head back in laughter. “Have you been a good boy?”
He chuckled, clearly liking the direction of the conversation. “No. I’ve been a very bad boy. You gonna punish me?”
I lifted my shoulders and paced the floor as if considering his disgusting proposition.
“Perhaps. Why don’t you tell me about Jake Bishop?”
“Who?”
“You know, the FBI agent you shot down about two years ago.”
“You a fed?”
“Not anymore.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let me jog your memory. D.C. A boat full of heroin. A raid that left you stranded on the boat. Jake told you to drop your weapon, and instead you fired, hitting him in the chest.”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
It was difficult keeping my cool under these circumstances. I wanted to rip his face off. But instead, I decided to play up the sexuality card. I unbuttoned another button on my blouse and pulled a chair over so I could sit just out of his reach. When I sat in the chair, I leaned forward, giving him a glimpse of my cleavage.
Whatever worked.
“I might be able to get the guys to go easy on you if you cooperate.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah—I’ve got some pull.”
“I bet you do.” He sighed, then glanced back down at the skin I’d put on display for him. “Fine. I remember. I’d brought in a crap ton of loot. Chavez had wanted it for some big-name buyer in D.C. he had chomping at the bit. I didn’t know all the details, but I knew if I didn’t bring it in safely, it would be my neck on the chopping block.”
So, Chavez was also involved in Jake’s death. It just fueled my passion to see them both pay.
“Go on.” I encouraged him by crossing my arms and plumping up my breasts just a tad. Varga raised his eyes to the ceiling and murmured something in Spanish.
“Lady, you’re killing me. Anyway, when I realized we were surrounded, I opted to save myself. I knew I could scrounge up more of the good stuff later, but I had to get out of there with my life. I’d just started off the boat when the lone ranger came out of nowhere.”
My heart beat wildly in my chest. This was it. I’d finally have the answers I wanted and needed to move on in life.
“He told me to stop and put my weapon down. Idiot. No way was I going to do that. I waited, trying to figure out the next move. But I didn’t have to wait very long. A seagull landed on the boat, distracting the fed just long enough for me to squeeze off a shot and get the hell out of there.”
A seagull? That’s what had caused Jake’s death? No way. Jake was a trained FBI agent. One of the best. He’d never be distracted by a bird.
“A seagull distracted him?”
“Yeah. Maybe it wasn’t a seagull. It was one of those really big birds with long legs.”
“A crane?”
“Yeah, that was it. The thing was huge. I assumed he thought it was a person. Beggars can’t be choosers, though. So I took the opportunity and got out of there. It was him or me. I chose me.”
A fluke. A bird. That was what had caused Jake’s death? A large bird that had taken his attention away from his target for a split second. Just long enough for Varga to kill him. He’d thought it was another target. Otherwise he’d never have turned away from Varga. And that distraction had killed him. No. Varga had killed him.
I shot up from my chair and paced the room, trying to keep my composure long enough not to strangle this piece of crap with my bare hands. “No. That can’t be right.” I murmured the words to myself over and over again.
“I don’t know what else to tell you, lady. It wasn’t personal.”
“Wasn’t personal? Jake was my fiancé! It was very personal!”
Ryder opened the door at my raised voice and looked between us. He lifted a brow at my unbuttoned shirt, and I hastily buttoned it back up.
“I’ve got to go!”
“Wait—where are you going?” Ryder followed me out, shutting the door behind him.
“I need air.”
“What happened, Piper? Should I get Cade?”
“No! I don’t need Cade. I don’t need help. I just need space… air. I need to be alone, okay?”
Ryder dipped his head in agreement. “Go.”
“Thanks.”
I ran out of the office suite, grateful I’d grabbed my purse and keys and left them in the office area rather than chancing a run-in with Cade in the dorms.
My heart rebelled at the notion that Jake’s death had been meaningless. There was no premeditated killing, no higher reason or purpose. It was a freaking fluke. A second of distraction that had caused Jake to lose his focus and given Varga the opportunity to escape.
I barely noticed the two men sitting in the cage as I passed by it, until I heard Cade calling my name. He reached me, and I whirled around, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but I saw his face and stopped short. Apparently I wasn’t the only one exorcising demons today.
“What’s wrong?” He was there, crowding me, smelling like sweat and the faint fading smell of his cologne. I kept my eyes low, and kept rushing to the back door. If I could just get to my car…
“I need space, Cade. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure as hell not fine. What’s wrong?”
I stopped then, jutting my hip out, so tired of trying to explain myself. I shouldn’t have to explain why I needed to get away. If I wanted to be alone, I should be able to be alone without having to give people an explanation for that. “I need to go think. Please, just let me go.” My mind whispered to me that this was what it was like to have people in your corner—to not be alone. I told my mind to shut the hell up!
Cade must have seen the agony in my eyes, as he stepped back and lifted his hands, indicating he wouldn’t stop me. But it was more than that. He was telling me that he understood. Gratitude coursed through my body, and I lifted to my toes and placed a kiss on his very bruised and beaten face. “Thank you.”
Before he could stop me, I rammed my hand into the back door and it flew open, banging against the side of the building. When I was outside, I took off running to my car.
The Mustang started up without protest, and it was just one thing in a long line of things I had to be grateful for. I knew it, but I wasn’t in the mood to count my blessings. I pressed the button on the remote Cade had given me for the new gate that had been installed and waited as it opened up.
When I hit the streets, I drove, not knowing where I was going or what to do. Then the thought of just driving out into the country, maybe north of the city, entered my mind, and I decided that was what I would do. I needed space, open air, blue skies, and glorious trees. The leaves on the trees had just begun to turn, and I knew that the farther north I went, the more beautiful the scenery would be.
I turned down a couple of side streets—my aim 75 Northbound. Memories of Jake and our time together flitted through my mind. His persistence in asking me out on a date. The first date we’d gone on after I’d relented. The meal at a small hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant in Crystal City. The night when he’d asked me to marry him while we were strolling next to the Potomac River in Georgetown. The night I’d held him in my arms while I waited for the first responders to get there after he’d been shot. The blood pulsing through my fingers as I held my hand on the gunshot wound in his chest.
“Live, Piper. Live the life you deserve.”
“Shut up, Jake. You’re going to be fine. Just fine.” My voice was all wrong. There was no conviction to the words. And even in Jake’s dying state, he knew I was lying.
“Don’t cry, my angel. You’re going to be fine. Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“You find the man that still holds that piece of your heart.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t having this conversation with the man I’d promised to spend my life with. “No, Jake. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to get married and live happily ever after.”
Jake smiled, his strength fading. I glanced down at my hands and saw the blood. So much blood.
“Find him. Love him. Have lots of babies and live happily ever after. Promise me.”
I shook my head again, the tears streaming down my face, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces. “No. Please, Jake. Don’t leave me.”
“Promise me.”
Finally, with nothing left to do but keep my word, I nodded. “I promise.”
His smile lit up the night, and my heart hurt more than I’d ever thought was possible. I felt sick to my stomach and so angry that God would do this to me. I’d searched for years for a family. Kept myself locked safely away. Then Jake had crumbled my walls and burst into my life and taught me to love.
“I love you, angel.”
“I love you, too. So much, Jake. It’s you. It’s always been you.”
Jake’s breaths were labored, the sucking sound of oxygen trying to fill his lungs filled the quiet night, the distant sounds of sirens growing closer, but they’d never make it in time.
“No, it wasn’t, angel. But that’s okay. Because I know you’re going to be all right. You’ll love again. He’ll keep you safe. Find him. Love him.”
With those words, Jake closed his eyes and his struggling ceased. His chest no longer rose with rattled breaths. His face was relaxed and peaceful, as if what waited for him on the other side wasn’t bad—not like what I was experiencing on this side.
But there was nothing peaceful about how I was feeling. Anger coursed through my body, demanding to be released. A scream ripped from my throat, the sound raw and torn as if tortured and haunted.
My head flew forward, hitting the steering wheel as something rammed into my car from behind. I glanced up to the rearview mirror and saw a black SUV. I’d stopped at the light and hadn’t even seen the car flying up behind me since my mind had traveled back two years ago and wasn’t in the present. Glancing up again, I saw the car in reverse, and tried to get my coordination together to get out of the way.
Stomping on the gas, I lurched forward, only to be hit from behind again. My head slammed back against the headrest, and ringing sang in my ears. It was late afternoon, and the city was bustling with activity, but as my luck would have it, this corner of town was relatively quiet with only a couple of cars weaving around me, their horns sounding, proclaiming their irritation.
The black SUV was stopped behind me, and the car doors opened. I fumbled on the passenger seat for my phone, frustrated that I’d put it in my purse instead of in the seat with me. I reached out, disoriented and off-kilter from hitting my head, and saw that my purse was on the floor of the passenger side. I unbuckled my seatbelt, leaning forward to grab it, but the door was flung open and a set of large hands reached in, pulling me from the car.
I tried to fight. “No! Stop! Leave me alone.”
But the big guy dragged me to the SUV and tossed me in the back seat, slamming the door. I reached for the door, but the click of a gun and the cold press of steel to my temple stopped me.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
A man I recognized from Tino’s bar that first night sat next to me, a gun pressed tightly to my head. He was smaller in stature, about five nine or so, and had a wiry build. In one hand he held the gun that was firmly placed against my temple, and in the other a scary-looking knife, flipping it casually as if he hadn’t a care in the world. I lifted my hands from the door and sat back against the seat. My head was spinning, the pain so bad I almost welcomed the relief of dark oblivion.
“Who are you?” The words slurred, and it hit me that I probably had a concussion.
“Chavez wants a word with you.” The man grinned as he twirled the knife and ran his fingers over the blade lovingly. He’d lowered the gun, but I wasn’t sure what was worse. Death by gunshot or death by blade.
No, that was wrong. I was sure. Gunshots were usually quick, and you were gone within seconds. Knife wounds, well, he could have quite a bit of “fun” at my expense before I ever got near death.
As the car tore down the road, the thought occurred to me that this was the third time in a week I’d been held against my will.
This was really getting old.